


Costume De Humaine

by Sav (orphan_account)



Category: Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Durselys, Baby Wendigo, Cannibalism, Creature Fic, Cross Over, Dark, Dark Creature Fics, Dark Harry Potter, F/M, Hannibal - Freeform, Hannibal is a Cannibal, Harry Potter - Freeform, M/M, Some Fluff, Wendigo, Wendigo Hannibal, Wendigos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-16 14:10:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2272710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Sav
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Upon Visiting relatives in America, the Dursley family makes an enemy out of Hannibal Lecter. Unbeknownst to our favorite Psychopathic Cannibal, the Dursley's had taken their nephew along with them. Hannibal discovers his existence last minute and Harry's polite nature saves his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Costume De Humaine

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Hadrian Lecter: Becoming](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1561418) by [savya398](https://archiveofourown.org/users/savya398/pseuds/savya398). 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 4 Little piggies went to the market.

**[EDITED 7/28/15]**

Pigs, all of them.

Swine in it’s rawest form, prancing around his neighborhood as if this was some sort of petting zoo.

Hannibal could handle loud and obnoxious behavior, he was a therapist for crying out loud, he needed to have a tolerance for some things. But rude? He simply could not deal with rude people, and that’s exactly what type of people the Dursley's were. The graying Doctor had been doing his routine weekly grocery shopping, buying minor things like truffle sea salt, tomato paste and other seasonings he didn’t mind purchasing from the local supermarket, when he had first seen the family. Hannibal had his single grocery bag in hand and there was a woman, obviously heavily pregnant, struggling to carry the grocery bags she had in her hand. Mind you she only had two but there looked to be a gallon of milk in one of the bags or something similar and her swollen belly seemed to make things all the more difficult for her.

The woman stood outside of the supermarket and Hannibal,being of polite society, was about to offer her some assistance most likely offer to carry the bags for her, when a small pudgy child who was horribly overweight with a swollen and blotchy face came barreling in her direction. Most likely headed for the entrance of the market. The little brute almost knocked her off her feet, if it hadn’t been for Hannibal’s reflexes she might have fallen. Luckily, he had caught her by her elbow but her groceries went tumbling to the ground. The corpulent boy paid her no mind not even bothering to apologize or even offer to pick up the spilled produce. A emaciated, horse-like woman ran after him and a boar of a man hobbled after her. They spared the shaken woman a glance, and continued after their wretched spawn.

“Miss, are you alright?” The lithuanian possessed a cultured voice, one that seemed to match his opulent suit. The words left his lips as he bent over to pick up the discarded vegetables and produce. Nothing had been damaged, the tubs of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream had rolled out of their bags but that was just about it. However the woman looked to be in near tears, whether she was naturally this sensitive or if it was a hormonal side effect of her pregnancy Hannibal didn’t know but he was unflinching in the presence of tears, especially when he was plotting a murder in his head. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I’m just having a long day, thank you.” She wiped her tears away with a sniff and tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. “How rude,” The good doctor pursed his lips, his voice a soft hum, glancing over his shoulder to where his prey had ran off to.  “Very! But it’s okay,-” Hannibal interjected with a shake of his head.

“Rudeness should never be tolerated.”

* * *

 

Dudley stood in his Aunt Becca’s backyard, the fireflies all but begging for his attention urging the boy to play that chase and capture game that so many children his age were fond of, but they were merely swatted away with a huff of annoyance as the bovine child resumed playing on his handheld video game. He sat in the grass, his back towards the house and his body hunched over the game, ignorant of the danger that was lurking in the thick under brush directly in front of him. The sun had begun to set, the sky a mixture of hues ranging from orange to pink and the earth had began to cool. Dudley was too engaged with the handheld device to take note of the crackling of the undergrowth. The snapping of twigs fell on deaf ears, but the the heavy shadow that was suddenly cast over the 6 year old got his attention fairly quickly. Initially Dudley Dursley looked up with his typical bratty expression but the look was almost instantly replaced with white hot terror at the sight of the beast that stood before him.

It was a stag.

A raven stag that stood roughly 7 feet tall, 8 if you added in the height of it’s massive antlers. The beast was a dark onyx color, with even seemingly darker feathers that decorated its flanks and neck. It’s eyes looked like freshly spun glass, Ivory Glass, for the beast had no pupils. It’s hooves stomped the ground softly and it seemingly gave a snort of bemusement at the boy’s frightened look. Dudley looked ready to scream, his lips parted and his eyes wide with fear but blood was spilt before any sound escaped into the  buzzing summer air. Night had fallen by time the stag had finished it’s meal. It’s short and grisly coat was now splattered with the red rubies of blood, and a juvenile corpse rested at its forefeet, the carcass face down in the grass with all the blood that hadn’t been lapped up pooling around the body.

Petunia Dursley poked her head out of the Kitchen side door, her face scrunched up making her look even more horse like. “Duddykins?! Duddykins it’s time to come inside!” she shouted. When she was met with silence, Petunia walked down the steps and made her way into the backyard. “Dudley?” She asked in a whisper, uncertainty settling in her stomach. “Dudley, answer your mother!” She snapped, eyes wide as she walked. Soon enough she made out the faint outline of her son lying in the grass. Had he fallen asleep? Petunia let a smile grace her pinched features as she knelt down next to her son. “Aw, Dudley wake up sweetie…” She rolled the lump of fat she called her child  over onto his back and the sight that met her eyes tore a blood curdling scream from her throat.

She didn’t even notice the beast that crept up behind her, that is until it was too late.

* * *

 

Hannibal entered the house wearing one of his many suits, the corners of his mouth stained with blood and the plastic and clear jumpsuit over top, latex surgical gloves fitted snugly on his hands. He stood in the kitchen a look of distaste on his marble features at the state of the area, it was dirty and unkempt, the kitchen of all places! The house belonged to one Rebecca Dursley the eldest sister of Vernon Dursley,Hannibal had done his research before he had stopped by. These days it was possible to find anything on the internet. The Mother and child were Petunia and Dudley Dursley. It was impossible to not  take note of how loud the TV was, so it came as no surprise that the Dursley siblings hadn’t heard Petunia’s screeches and screams over the racket of the television. Hannibal entered the living room, pulling on a pair of leather gloves as he did so.

Vernon and Rebecca were seated in two recliner chairs facing the television, plates of uneaten food on their meaty laps. “Hey Becca, turn down the tele would ya?” Vernon suddenly spoke his upper lip twitching.  “Why what’s wrong?” Rebecca asked, she had limp brown hair and a overly round face. It was obvious she was just as much of a glut as her brother. “I think I hear that damned freak again,” suddenly as if on command Vernon turned several shades of red. He stood up on shaky legs after all but tossing his plate onto the floor. He hadn’t waddled 5 steps when he caught sight of Hannibal. “Who in the hell are you?!” Becca screamed, her mouth full of food, her double chins jiggling as she did so. Hannibal simply smiled in response, his amber eyes glittering with some unidentifiable emotion.

“Now, is that anyway to greet a guest?”

 ****  
  


Harry was a smart boy, whether he believed it or not wasn’t really of any importance at the moment. He knew he was different--that he was what his relatives called a freak. Little 5 year old  Harry Potter felt terribly alone in the world he lived in, the world where he was too different from everyone else. He was the little boy who taught himself to read, who taught himself what love was and what love wasn’t, which quite frankly isn’t too hard to discern when given comparisons. Love is what Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had for Dudley, love is the reason Aunt Petunia gave Dudley food and Harry none, it was the reason why Dudley slept in a bed and had two rooms and why Harry slept beneath the stairs on an infant’s cot.

Love was the reason Dudley was playing outside (To Harry’s knowledge) and Harry laid broken and bloody beneath the stairs. Love made such a difference in life, practically unnoticeable until you went without. Little Harry wanted love, he wanted it so bad.  But because he was an intelligent little boy, sometimes eerily so, he knew that he’d never get the love he wanted from his relatives. All because he was different--because he was magic.

Not that Harry knew that.

  
Harry sat up on his cot, at the noise that sounded from outside the cupboard door. The six year old took the moment to appreciate Aunt Rebecca's home. Everything was larger, the kitchen, the bathrooms, the yard, and the cupboards. At least  he could sit up straight, and this cupboard was nowhere near as filthy as the one he had back at home. Sounds of muffled shouting, and screams leaked through the sturdy wooden door and suddenly all was quiet. The sudden stillness of the air is what frightened the child, causing his ‘freakishness’ to crackle, buzzing across the surface of his skin. That made his fear increased tenfold, bad things always happened when his ‘freakishness’ was involved.  Whether it be bullies, or the cracking of Uncle Vernon’s belt, he doubted that this was going to end well.


End file.
